


You, To Me, Are Soft As Summer Rain

by meditationsinemergencies



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Angst, F/M, Facebook: The Pen15 is Mightier, Fluff, Rare Pairings, Romance, Snark, Summer Camp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 23:31:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20455364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meditationsinemergencies/pseuds/meditationsinemergencies
Summary: Nymphadora Tonks is begrudgingly attending her last summer at camp before she leaves for college. Severus Snape is looped into being a camp counselor.





	You, To Me, Are Soft As Summer Rain

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of the Camp Pen15 challenge.

In the back seat of her parents’ car, the young woman turned the page of the large novel she was reading. It was one of the several books she’d brought to help her survive the next few weeks. Her father was driving, her mother was talking her ear off, but it wasn’t long before the car stopped. Out the passenger window was quite a beautiful view -- a peaceful lake with rolling hills behind it. The sun beginning it’s path behind the hills, to tuck itself into evening. Cabins and docks and trails were scattered across the grounds. _ At least it’s beautiful out here _ , she thought. 

It was Nymphadora Tonks' final year at Camp I-Don't-Want-To-Be-Here-And-I-Hate-All-These-Elitist-Assholes, and she'd never been so grateful. 

She never enjoyed summer camp, but her grandfather, her mother's father, insisted she go; insisted that it was tradition; insisted it was absolutely necessary, that she, as his only granddaughter, go and represent the family. She hated being the only grandchild old enough to go to the camp. Her cousin, Draco, was ten years younger and not quite old enough to be the recipient of all the unwanted pressures that Cygnus Black put on the members or his family. 

Camp was one of the few things her mother also insisted she do. Her mother and her grandfather didn't get along, and her mother usually let Nymphadora (who insisted on going by Tonks, as to irritate her grandfather, as he loathed her father Ted Tonks) do as she pleased. There was no charm school -- instead her mother let her dye her hair odd colors; there was no prep school -- Tonks attended an art school; there were no piano lessons -- drum lessons, as her focus in school was visual arts, but, by God, she wanted to be a drummer. 

No, Andromeda Black Tonks let her daughter be herself -- however she chose to be it, regardless of how much it disappointed Cygnus Black.

Camp however was different. Summer camp allowed for friendship and young love and memories that were only obtained underneath the stars with mosquito bites on your legs. 

And, this year? Well, this was _the _year; she’d graduated high school, she was heading to college in August, and this last month out on the lake at camp was meant to be the best month of her youth. Most of the kids who had been attending camp since the age of 12, couldn’t wait until their final year. It was the transition between childhood and adulthood. It was a month where you straddled the line between these two worlds. Tonks, however, just wanted it to be over. 

But, as her mother was so insisted upon Tonks experiencing this, Tonks without much complaint, but just enough, stepped out of her parents' car. 

\--

Tonks, who was talkative, funny, and loud, found herself stifled by those around her at camp. Her hair, which she'd freshly dyed a deep purple to annoy her grandfather, made it clear that Tonks was not like everyone else here.

But, this year she wasn't alone. 

As she entered the mess hall on her first evening. Her eyes scanned the room's tables. In the middle, in the center of the long table, the camp counselors and executive members of the camp sat. 

The counselors were typically former camp attendees. It was expected that once you no longer attended, you still spend part of your summer helping out in some form or fashion -- usually as a counselor. The counselors ranged from ages 19-30. The older counselors, of course, being the ones with the most authority. Sitting between Lucius Malfoy, an executive board member of the camp, and  Alecto Carrow, a young woman who was a counselor, was a man she'd never seen before. 

To put it frankly, this man did not fit in. He had to be a little younger than Lucius but he was still definitely older than her. Tonks assumed he was 25. He was tall and thin. He had jet black hair that rested on his shoulders. He was wearing a faded black Minor Threat t-shirt and black jeans, whereas everyone at his table wore polo shirts and khaki shorts. He seemed to get along well enough with everyone there, but he was obviously, painfully, different. 

Tonks, still standing with her tray of food at the front of the room, glanced at him one last time before making her way to find somewhere to sit. As her eyes lingered over him, he flicked his eyes upward to find hers. His eyes were dark and they met her hazel ones with curiosity. She gave him a soft smile that she hoped illustrated her understanding of being the outsider and ducked her head before finding her table. 

\--

Severus Snape loathed the idea of summer camp.

However, he needed to be here. He needed to know the right people. Unlike everyone else here, campers, counselors, and various staff, Snape was not born into the right family. He was born into the entirely wrong family, and he'd been busting his ass since he could remember to get where he was.

Snape was a doctoral candidate in chemistry where he worked closely with known, chemist and professor, Horace Slughorn. Slughorn introduced Snape to Lucius Malfoy at a Christmas party the following year. 

Malfoy had lots of money and was an alumnus of the university at which Snape attended. Slughorn knew how important it was for Snape to make the right connections. 

Malfoy took an immediate liking to Snape. He admired his tenacity and his work-ethic. He also liked how desperate Snape seemed. How Snape appeared as if he'd do anything Malfoy or Slughorn asked of him, if it meant it to be in his eventual benefit. 

Snape didn't care if he liked or disliked Malfoy. He just cared that Malfoy meant something to other people, that he was a representative of wealth and success: That's what mattered to Snape. 

Malfoy was a donor and one of the executive board members of the camp, and, for some reason, this year he was short one male counselor. Before processing what it was he was being asked to do, Snape agreed to the offer almost immediately. He was willing to do just about anything Malfoy wanted.

The camp was essentially painless. It was an easy gig. Frankly, Malfoy could have asked a lot worse of him and he would have done it, however, something about  _ camp  _ made his toes curl. No one else here seemed to think it was awful. Everyone seemed to love it. 

Well, everyone but her. 

\--

The first week of camp went as Tonks expected. There were all sorts of activities -- ones that were to bond you with your peers, ones that were to help you get to know younger campers, and, the worst, ones that forced you to get to know yourself better.

Tonks knew herself just fine. She was self-assured, and especially in this context. She wasn't going to an Ivy League school. Tonks had begged her mother to take her out of a preparatory academy at a young age. 

She hated it all. The phoniness. The persona you had to create. She found, even in her youth, that there was something rude and cruel about her surrounding classmates -- something that was born and bled into them from their families: Families like her own, the Blacks, and the others like Malfoys and the Lestranges, and, at school, she was surrounded by them.

Tonks' mother, while still on speaking terms with her father and sisters, distanced herself greatly from them when she married Tonks' father, Ted. Ted was from a small town outside of Tonks' home town. He wasn't from a wealthy family; they were white collar. Tonks' grandfather hated Ted, which made Tonks dislike her grandfather even more. 

And, so, Tonks didn't need to be here. She didn't need these relationships to help propel her into her collegiate and post-collegiate career.

Tonks took everything here with a grain of salt, and she used any time she had to herself to be by herself. She liked it that way. 

At the end of the first week, the older campers were outside sitting around the fire. Most of them were chatting amongst themselves, fits of laughter bursting out from the flames of the fire in the center of them all. 

She, however, sat by herself. She had her feet propped up on a wooden log. She wore a beat-up pair of slip-on Vans and her cut off shorts showed off her tanned legs, holes in the jeans nearing her thighs showed slightly paler skin. Her deep purple hair was shoulder length and seemed to frizz slightly in the heat of the evening. She was reading  _ The Stand _ by Stephen King. It was a monstrosity of a book; one Snape had read years ago, right around the time he was her age. She was about half-way through the novel, and she seemed to have the ability to read without the distraction of what was going on around her. Snape envied her for this. He couldn’t read unless it was almost completely silent.

He didn’t know much about her, but he found he was drawn to her any time she was around him; it took a lot for him to not watch her. He knew her name was Nymphadora, but she preferred to go by her surname, Tonks. She persistently corrected everyone and anyone who called her Nymphadora. Once she even corrected Lucius Malfoy, which shocked Snape to hear a young 18-year-old girl combat Malfoy. He also knew she didn’t speak to many of the other campers. She wasn’t rude to anyone. She wasn’t being bullied by anyone. She simply managed to float amongst everyone else -- shimmering within the mass of campers without seeming to be noticed. 

It wasn’t uncommon for the counselors to spend a lot of time with the older campers. In fact, it was fairly common. Snape, however, had a hard time. He was 26 years old. There was nothing for him to say to any of these kids. Nothing. But, he knew he had to do some communicating. Alecto Carrow, who seemed to have a real distaste for him, informed Malfoy that he was a shit counselor, and so Snape was growing concerned with Malfoy’s opinion of him. He couldn’t let it waiver now, not over his lack of performance at this dumb summer camp. 

He moved from the tree he was perched against, and sat down on the log next to where Tonks’ feet rested. 

Without looking at her, he said in a low voice, “M-O-O-N that spells….” She darted her eyes up from the words on the page, he continued, “camp is torture.”

She looked back down at the book. Her lack of response caused Snape to worry that he missed the mark. Perhaps she didn’t dislike being here as much as he did. Perhaps he read her wrong. He glanced over at her to see that her lips had twisted into a slight smirk. He watched her eyes move quickly across the page before she moved her fingers to bend the corner of the page in the worn paperback. 

She set the book onto her lap, and folded her hands over the book. 

“Have you read a lot of Stephen King?” she asked, “Or do you just watch the movies?”

“To say I’ve read a lot of King is an understatement. Based on how quickly you seemed to have plowed through that book this week, I’d guess this isn’t your first Stephen King novel.”

“How often have you watched me read?”

“There isn’t much else to do out here.”

“You could read.”

“I’m,” he touched his hands to his chest for emphasis “a counselor. I am not allowed to spend all my time reading. I have greater responsibilities.”

She laughed at this remark, and Snape cracked a small smile himself. 

“Well, to answer your question, this is not my first Stephen King novel. I’ve read quite a few myself. It started as a simple way to tick off my grandfather. He thought I should be reading Austen and Dickens and the like. I simply chose  _ Salem’s Lot _ the first time I read it because the cover looked unsettling, and I knew he’d hate to see me reading it at family dinners. The fact that I ended up loving King was just by chance.”

“And your grandfather is…?”

  
“Cygnus Black.” 

“So, you’re Lucius Malfoy’s niece.”

“Unfortunately.”

  
Snape raised his eyebrows.

“What? Don’t give me that look. He’s a real dick. I do not like him. I never have, and I never will.”

She stood up, brushed the dirt and grass off from the back of her shorts, and sat next to him on the log.

“You shouldn’t say that so loudly, you know? Others can hear you, and it looks bad for both me and you.”

  
“I don’t care how it looks for me. He’s not my friend, and if  _ you _ care so much about how it looks for you, then, well, you can go find another log.” She leaned in close to him, and, as she said this, her arm nudged his, as if she were challenging him -- daring him to get up and move away from her.

She held his gaze for a few moments, her arm just centimeters away from touching him again. In those moments, Snape noticed, in the firelight, how hard it was to tell what color her eyes were. A perfect mixture of green and blue with flecks of honey-brown. Small freckles were dusted across the bridge of her nose, a few scattered around the dimples of her mouth. He wasn't sure why but he suddenly didn’t want this girl to lump him in with Malfoy. He didn’t want her to think of him in the same way she thought about Malfoy.

“He is not my friend.” His low and deep whisper seemed to sink into her skin.

She looked down at her feet. Tapping her toes against the dirt. One of the other counselors stood up. Informed everyone that it was time to head back to their cabins. 

Tonks took her time standing up, getting her things together, and walking back down the short trail to her cabin. Almost everyone had made their way back, but she was taking her time, as she always did. Snape walked several steps behind her, hands in the pockets of his jeans, kicking rocks on the ground. He watched her shape in front of him move in the darkness. 

Heart racing, Tonks turned around at the end of the path, right before the land was clear and led to the cabin that she shared with other girls her age. She thought she was going to say something to him; she’d planned on saying something to him, but, instead, she just tilted her head to the side and shrugged before spinning on her heel and heading towards her cabin. 

He stood immobile at the end of the path, as he watched her walk into her cabin. Looking up at the stars, he sighed. Unsure of what he was feeling. Unsure of why he was concerned with what a dumb kid thought of him. He ran his hands over his face, as if to wipe away the evening's events, shoved his hands back into his pockets, and went to check in on the younger campers. 

\--

The next day seemed to drag. Well, most camp days seemed to drag for Snape, but today especially. 

He couldn't stop thinking about Tonks. Specifically, he couldn't stop thinking about when she'd leaned into him, when she bumped her arm into his, how her eyes held a fire within them, one that had ignited something. 

He also couldn't stop chastising himself for his thoughts. She was so young. He was almost certain she was 18, but he wasn't one hundred percent sure. On top of her youth, she was vibrant. Something no one had ever said about him. Not to mention, a girl like her had to have a boyfriend, but god what was he thinking? She was a camper. She was Lucius Malfoy's niece and the granddaughter of Cygnus Black.

But none of these facts had stopped him from lying in his bed, in the cabin he shared with a few of the other counselors the night before, and thinking about her legs in her shorts: her shapely calves, her thick tanned thighs. Or the way her slightly-too-large white v-neck shirt hid her shape. He was desperate to know what the curvature of her body was, and berated himself for never noticing on days where the campers went swimming. He made a mental note to pay attention the next time and made another mental note to stop being such a skees. 

He awoke with an excitement in him he hadn't felt in years. He felt hopeful and joyful. He felt youthful -- giddy at the thought of seeing her. 

He first spotted her when he went in for breakfast. She was already sitting at her normal table. She had a piece of toast resting in her mouth as she turned a page in  _ The Stand.  _ She had clearly made progress since last night. 

Her shoulder length hair was pulled back into a messy pony-tail. Strands of purple framed her face. Her eyes looked a little puffy, as if she'd just woken up. He felt his stomach flip ever-so slightly, and he, once again, began to chastise himself for his feelings -- the immaturity of them (he was, after all, a grown man) and the fact that she was who she was. He grabbed coffee and took his seat with the other counselors, his back towards her, a decision he almost immediately regretted. 

Snape spent most of his day with the younger campers. He enjoyed spending time with them as it required significantly less socializing. They needed structure. They weren't old enough to understand that they needed to schmooze and charm their way into situations and relationships. 

Despite how busy the twelve- and thirteen-year-olds kept him, Tonks still found her way into his brain. A spare moment would allow for the memory of the shine of an earring as she tucked her hair behind an ear, the way she fidgeted with the book in her hands as she spoke, and so on.

As the day wound down, Snape grew anxious, regardless of how he kept mentally scolding himself. He knew he'd spend the last few hours of the day with the eldest campers -- the high school graduates. 

Walking down the short trail to the campfire, the sun tucking itself away for the evening, he saw her. She sat on the log from the night before. Her hair, pulled back loosely, she wore the same blue jean shorts, and, this time, she had on a tank-top with some emblem on it. She was reading. As he approached, he saw her eyes glance up quickly at him and back down to reading. 

He sat down beside her. She read silently for a time before closing the book to look at him and smile. 

Their evenings became routine. They'd spend their days apart. Catching a glimpse of each other here and there. Never chatting. Never waving. Just eyes holding onto one another for no more than a beat to say "Hello".

The evenings were theirs. They sat with everyone else but kept entirely to themselves. 

For five nights in a row, they talked. They talked to one another like they had nothing to lose. They could say whatever they felt, either because they knew the other understood them in a way no one else did or because the other wouldn't think twice about them once camp was over and they went their separate ways. Whatever it was for either of them, it was refreshing.

Tonks had stopped making such impressive progress on  _ The Stand,  _ and she joked that she wished Snape would stop talking to her so much so she could read. 

"I see you’re almost done." Snape commented as he repositioned himself on the ground, his back resting against the log. The book was lying on the grass at her feet, Tonks still sat on the log. Her turned to look at her, rested his arm on the log. His hand dangling and his fingers close to the skin of her leg. He flexed his fingers to graze her skin, to feel the warmth of her, but he caught himself and folded them into a fist. 

"Yep. I've got about 20 more pages. If you didn't distract me…" she trailed off.

"Would you like to finish?"

"Now?"

"If you'd like. I don't mind sitting here in silence. I quite enjoy the peace." He smirked at her.

"You sure you don't mind? I would like to finish." 

He waved his hand at her. He stretched out his legs, folded his hands in his lap, and looked up at the sky. 

Tonks slid down off the log and sat next to him. She began to read. Falling into the rhythm of it. Her left hand in her hair, twirling a strand mindlessly. The book resting against her propped up on her knees. 

Her arm brushed against him slightly each time she turned a page, and she was close enough so that he could smell her, the slight musk of sweat mixed with coconut and jasmine. 

Out of the corner of his eye he watched her face respond to what she was reading. Her lips were parted slightly, and she seemed completely immersed in what she was consuming, oblivious to her surroundings. Snape couldn't help but enjoy how relaxed and at ease she seemed next to him. 

After 25 minutes or so, she shut the book. 

She shut her eyes and leaned her head back against the log.

"Thoughts?"

"Hmmmm. I don't know. I need to let it sink in some more."

Before he could respond, another counselor began to pack it up for the evening, and everyone began to disperse. 

Within the commotion of conversation and movement, Tonks, looking up at the sky, whispered, "I think it's a good night to go swimming.

She looked over at him, his eyebrows raised. 

"That's against the rules."

"I don't care about these rules," and with that she stood up. She turned back to look at him, still sitting on the ground. 

"The sky is clearest at midnight."

Tonks left Snape sitting there to contemplate the implications of her invitation.

\--

Tonks tried to walk calmly as she made her way down the trail and back to her cabin. 

Her mind was reeling. What did she just do?

_ He is your counselor. He is a grown man. You are just a silly little girl. He's bored; that's why he's spent so much time talking to you, not because he wants to go night swimming. Jesus. Way to screw up that good friendship you had going, Tonks.  _

She took a deep breath and tried to collect herself as she readied for bed. 

She contemplated not going out for a swim. He wasn't going to show up anyways, so why go out there to just feel stupid?

In the end, she put her swimsuit on underneath her pajamas, and as it approached midnight, and the few other girls were asleep, Tonks crept out of her bed and into the night. 

Her bare feet felt hot against the cool grass as she walked down to the dock at the lake. Tonks had been sneaking out for years now. She didn't often swim; she usually just sat on the dock and gazed at the sky. She wore her bathing suit because she did want to go swimming, and she especially wanted to go swimming with him. Whether or not it worked out that way was yet to be seen, but she at least needed to be prepared.

She was certain he wouldn’t be on the dock. She was certain he’d explain it to her tomorrow that he’d fallen asleep or that he was tied up with another counselor. He’d have some legitimate reason. She also knew that she’d accept his reason; she’d understand it, and they’d move on and continue with their friendship for the next several weeks of camp.

As she approached the dock, her heart dropped into her belly and began to beat quickly within the confines of her stomach. He was sitting there on the dock with his legs dangling over the ledge and his toes treading the water. 

She couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. Tucking her nerves away, Tonks shed her pajama top and bottom before she got to the dock and then she began to run.

She ran down the dock and jumped into the water.

She surfaced to find his mouth open in shock as the water from her jump had soaked him from his shoulders to his kneecaps.

“What are you doing?”

  
“I said I wanted to go swimming, didn’t I?” Tonks flashed him a wide grin. She was hoping that he couldn’t tell how nervous she was, that her grand-gesture of jumping in, her broad smile, it was all deceiving him. 

“Yes. I can see that you’re swimming, Tonks. But, what are you doing?”

  
“What do you mean?”

“This.” He pointed gestured between himself and her.

“Just two friends out swimming.”

“You’d consider me a friend?”   
  


“Do you consider me a friend?”

  
Snape paused, considering, “Yes.”

  
“Good.” This time she paused, and the silence seemed to be heavy. “You should get in. The water’s nice.” 

He took a deep breath, “I don’t really like the water.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. It’s just one of those things. I never went to the beach or the pool as a child. I was never around water, and so the idea of it unsettles me. It’s so vast and dark and full of things I know nothing about.”

Tonks swam up to the edge of the dock. She used her arms to pull up and lean on the wooden boards. Looking up at him, she said, “I understand that. You don’t have to get it.”

There was another long pause, “I didn’t really care whether or not we swam tonight.”

“I thought you wanted to go swimming, hence your spectacle a few moments ago.”

“No,” she shook her head, “I just…” she paused and furrowed her brow. “I just wanted to spend some time with you outside of the confines of the normal camp structure.” Tonks kept her eyes down, watching the water droplets on her arms. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to face him after that admission.

Snape reached down and rested his hand lighting on her upper-arm. His thumb rubbed against her skin -- now pimpled with goosebumps from his touch. 

“Well, perhaps, going swimming may be worth it if I get to spend some good ol’ quality time with you.”

“I’d say so. I am delightful.”

He laughed softly as he began to pull off his shirt. Tonks pushed off from the dock, floating back into the water. Tossing his shirt off behind him, he stood up and slid off his jeans revealing a pair of black boxer-briefs. If there was any indication to Tonks that he didn’t want to go swimming from the get-go, it was the fact that he had worn jeans. She tried not to look him over. He was quite tall, quite pale, but more muscular despite his thin appearance.

He shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t have a swimsuit, and I was told I wouldn’t have to go swimming.” 

“Whatever works.” She smiled and shrugged her shoulders, too. 

He sat back down on the edge of the dock, hesitating, and then slid his body down into the water. He couldn’t touch the bottom, and he wasn’t willing to test how far down the bottom was, but the water was warm and pleasant, and he felt far more comfortable than he expected, but he just wasn’t exactly sure what he was supposed to do with himself. 

She moved easily throughout the water, as if she was the most comfortable submerged. “I’m just really glad I’ve never read a Stephen King novel that deals with some sort of water monster.”

“ _ It. _ ”

“Pennywise isn’t in the water.”

“Sewers. Close enough.”

“Not quite.”

Their banter and thoughtless conversation carried on for some time. Snape found that when others weren’t around, Tonks had an even better laugh, something he hadn’t thought possible. 

And, it was her laughter that did him in. Her eyes crinkling in the corners. Her head tilted back, the ends of her hair dipping into lake. The freckles on her cheeks folding into the dimples of her widened smile as she laughed. 

Her laugh was loud and brash and, god, it was honest: It wasn't the giggle of a woman entertaining you. 

When Tonks laughed, it lingered. Small bursts would come as she steadied her breathing. She breathed a laugh through her nose and smiled at him. 

He was much closer to her than she had been moments before, and when his arm reached out underneath the water to wrap around her waist and pull her towards him, she came to him without hesitation or question.

He bent down and caught her lips -- cool against the heat of her own. His kiss was chaste, simple, uncomplicated and with no intention of anything but sweetness. With his other hand he cupped her face, rubbing his thumb against her cheek. Their lips parting and coming together, softly pulling and plucking from the other's.

Snape was not always the most sensitive man or a sensitive lover, but he wanted nothing more than to hold her, this young woman, to him and to kiss her tenderly until the sun peaked if she so let him. Arousal settled in his belly, egging him on, coaxing him to run his tongue along her lips, to invade her mouth, but something else was settling in his heart urging him to show her tenderness. 

He found that his uneasiness at being in the water was fading. He pulled away from her briefly. Tonks' eyes fluttered slowly open. Kissing him was unlike kissing boys her own age. He felt controlled and aware of  _ her.  _ It felt like everything he did from his hand cupping her face, to the way his arm was wrapped gingerly around her waist was  _ for _ her -- to show her something, to tell her something, and to teach her something like how a first kiss was meant to be with someone you adore. 

Her brain began to race as she became aware of her feelings. She felt quite stupid. She knew this would probably amount to nothing even if he did return her feelings, he had a life to get back to, and she, well, she has a life to get started. Her eyes prickled slightly with the heat of tears, and Snape's face was lined with concern. 

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. I thought…," he trailed off.

"I wanted you, too. I...I want you to keep kissing me."

"Then, tell me, why is it that you look so distraught?"

She found her hands resting on his shoulders -- growing cooler as the night deepened and the temperature dropped. 

"It's stupid."

"Tell me."

She took a deep breath and looked down at the water. 

"Tonks?"

"I like you a lot. I know. It's ridiculous. It's not like you're going to become my boyfriend or something. I know this is all because you're utterly miserable here, and I'm odd enough to pass the time with decent conversation for the next few weeks. I'm just... I'm just a stupid little girl."

At the end of her last word, Snape bent down and kissed her again. With every part of his being, he resisted kissing her with fervor, without control. It was as sweet as, if not more than, before, and this time he opened his mouth, letting his tongue glide against her lips. Parting her lips, she welcomed his tongue, slowly caressing her, as she responded. Tonks pressed her body against his, the water between them pushed aside. She felt the coolness of his skin, the damp chest hair, the beat of his heart pounding against her. 

He pulled back again.

“You’re not a stupid little girl. However, you’re not as clever as I thought you were if you think what I’m doing is passing time. I don’t think you understand how much I enjoy not talking, and, yet, I always seem to be talking to you.” 

She bit her bottom lip and half-smiled up at him,“If you aren’t passing time, then what are you doing?”

“I haven’t quite figured that out yet, considering I have no idea what  _ you’re  _ doing, but I do know that you aren’t stupid, you aren’t a little girl, and you aren’t just decent conversation: You’re great conversation.” He smirked at his final words, trying to elevate the tension.

“Oh…” her eyebrows raised, “so, I’m just great conversation to pass the time.”

“Precisely.”

Once again, her laugh overcame him. Watching her, her shoulders rising mid-laugh, the freckles on her shoulders and chest illuminated by the moon’s reflection on the water. He felt certain at that moment that he was in love with her. He wasn’t sure how; he wasn’t the type who bothered with the trivialities of love, and he absolutely would have never considered himself to fall in love so quickly, so irrationally. 

He sure as hell wasn’t about to tell her he loved her, but he did. 

  
  


\--

Tonks made her way quietly back into her cabin, and sunk into her bed -- her mind reeling but her body exhausted. She didn’t think she’d be able to sleep, but she surprisingly was. 

Snape stayed out on the dock for a bit after she’d left. He laid back onto the wood. He felt his heart aching with the lack of her presence. He felt his mind aching with the stupidity of his actions. How could he feel so much for someone so quickly? He didn’t even know that much about her; he knew that she read a lot of horror, she listened to a wide variety of music including some of his own favorites, she was witty, and she had the ability to keep up with him when the conversation was full of sarcasm. The most important thing he knew was that she was putting all her efforts towards pulling away from the status she was born into, whereas he, well, he was doing all he could to move towards it.

They were two points being pulled away from something and simultaneously towards something.

\--

In the quietness of his cabin the next morning, Snape found a blank slip of paper. He scrawled, in his spiky handwriting, a note, and he tucked it into the front of a beat-up copy of  _ Carrie _ . 

He thought back to one of their first conversations:

_ “What do you mean you’ve never read Carrie? It’s his first novel, Tonks. It’s important to have read his first novel.” _

_ “Well, there’s just always been so many others to read. Plus, I know how it ends; I’ve seen the movie.” _

_   
_ _ “Dammit, girl. Don’t you know that the movie adaptations aren’t exactly the best representations of the novels themselves.” _

_ “Fine. Fine. Fine. I’ll read it. Okay?” _

_ “Good.” _

Snape has a very worn out copy of  _ Carrie  _ at home, in the small-dingy apartment shared with a fellow doctoral candidate at the university. He had his roomate ship him his copy of the novel overnight a few nights prior. His roommate didn’t quite understand his need to have the book, but Snape assured him that he needed it, and that he’d pay for the shipping. 

He’d decided the moment she said she’d never read it, to get it for her -- that was before he’d kissed her on the lake, but now he felt a sense of desperation to get it to her immediately. 

He usually tried to get down to breakfast quickly, as to avoid having too many conversations so early in the morning. This morning he took his time getting down there, hoping he’d bump into her on the way: He didn’t. 

Scanning the room as he stood in the doorway, he spotted her, and she was already eating breakfast and chatting with another camper about something that didn’t seem to be entertaining to either of them. He enjoyed looking at her when she didn’t know he was watching. He loved to watch her hands move as she talked; they gave away her mood towards the conversation. He loved how she absently tucked her hair behind her ears, even if strands of it fell out almost instantly after each tuck. He admired the fact that she could so easily play the game with everyone else here, with all the elite among them -- her name, her intellect, but she refused to. He wished, for the first time, that he wasn’t part of this game with Lucius.

Both having finished their breakfast and heading out to take part in whatever was scheduled for them to take part, Snape found her before she was gone for the morning. She was walking ahead of him, heading out towards the lake. Jogging briefly, he caught up with her, tapping her on the arm with the book. “For you,” he said. 

Taking the book out of his hand, noting its cover, she exclaimed, “Hey! No way! How’d you get this?”

“I just had it with me by chance. I brought several books with me. For years, I’ve been wanting to reread  _ Carrie _ , and while I was out here, I figured I’d have the time. However, I want you to read it. You need to.”

“Well, thank you! I’m so excited to read it.”

“You’re welcome. Although, I’d take it back to your cabin beforehand,” he motioned to lake, the direction she was previously headed. “See you around.”

He turned his back to her and walked in the other direction towards where the younger campers were beginning their activity. 

She ran her thumb along the pages of the book as she watched him go. Opening the cover she saw a slip of paper inside. Her heart pounded knowing she couldn’t read it out here. She ran back to her cabin, shutting the door quickly behind her. She was alone, but she scanned the room anyways. As she unfolded the slip of paper, certain words stuck out to her before she could even begin to read it: _ need, alone, thinking, you.  _

Once she calmed herself she began to read:

_   
_ _ Today, at some point, I need to see you. Alone. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the first evening we spoke, but after last night I don’t think I’ll ever stop thinking about you. Meet me by the fire pit after you’ve had lunch. No one is out there then.  _

She folded the note back up, heart racing, palms sweaty. She folded the note into a small square than he had previously, and she tucked it into a pair of socks in the bag under her bed. 

Making her way down to the lake, she felt half of her nerves turn into excitement. 

\--

Tonks shoved half a grilled cheese into her mouth as quickly as she could without seeming odd. She normally didn’t spend a lot of time in the mess hall at lunch, but she couldn’t duck out in under five minutes or it’d seem extra odd. She usually spent her lunch reading somewhere. With her new copy of  _ Carrie _ , tucked under her arm, she waited an appropriate amount of time, and walked out onto the campgrounds. The grounds were almost completely empty. Almost everyone thoroughly enjoyed the lunch hour to be inside in the air conditioning. Tonks didn’t care about the heat; she enjoyed the feeling of the heat against her skin, of the sweat prickling at her temple, or behind her knees. 

She slowly, trying to appear calm and collected, found the small trail that led to the firepit. Taking her time, to kick a few rocks, to look up at the trees, she made her way to him. 

He was sitting on their log, and he stood upon her walking up to him. 

“I got your note.”

“Obviously,” he smirked. 

“So,” she stuck her hands into the back pockets of her shorts, “what exactly did you  _ need _ to see me for?” She felt good about her ability to seem as if she wasn’t intimidated by him, she wasn’t nervous, but she was desperate for him to kiss her again.

“Just to see you.”

“Just to see me?”

“Mhmmm.”

“Well, here I am,” she held out her arms, wiggling her fingers, a grin across her face.

He took one full step towards her, “Indeed you are.” 

She stepped towards him, closing the gap almost entirely between them.

  
“I don’t think I should kiss you again.”

  
With that she felt her heart deflate; he watched as her face fell with it.

“I worry we’ll get caught.”

“We won’t.”

  
“We might.”

  
“So what if we do? I’m 18. I’m an adult.”

“I know. But, this is my job.”

“Your  _ summer  _ job. Some bullshit favor your doing for Malfoy.” He could see her temper rising as she spoke. He didn’t want to admit that he liked it, liked to see the fire in her, but he did; he liked it a lot. 

“Still a job nonetheless.” 

“I’m sorry, Severus,” she enunciated his name with irritation, “but, did you ask me to come out here just so you could tell me you don’t want to kiss me again? That’s pretty damn stupid. You could have just avoided me from here forward. It’s only a week and a half.”

“No. I didn’t intend on that. I just...when I saw you just now, walking up, I realized how stupid I was being, risking your reputation.”

“Don’t you dare make this about me. I could care less about what any of these,” she waved her hand off in the direction of the trail, “think about me.”

“You should care. You’ve got everything in your lap to make your way towards success. You should care.”

  
“I don’t. Most of them are bad people. They suck your soul, Severus. They just use you. They don’t care about you.” She took a deep breath, “Malfoy doesn’t care about you.” 

“I know that, Tonks. I know that. Do you think I’m stupid? No one cares about me but me.”

“I care about you.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I think I do. I think I know you better than you think I do. I think you do a damn good job of tricking yourself into thinking you want to be like Malfoy and the others. That you want to be rich and powerful. I don’t think you do. Part of you think it’s going to make you happy, but it won’t. It just won’t. You’re going to spend the rest of your life beneath Malfoy, beneath my grandfather. To them, you’re nothing. You’ll never be like them, and, to be honest, you shouldn’t want to be like them.”

“You’re just too young to understand.”

“No. I’m not. I understand. Find me in five years, and tell me how happy you are being Malfoy’s dog.” She turned on her heel and stormed down the trail before she burst into tears. 

\--

Snape stood with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Muttering to himself, “That was not at all how I intended that to go.” He wasn’t exactly sure how it took the path it did. He was certain that when he saw her this afternoon he was going to kiss her, he had wanted more than anything to kiss her, even throughout their argument he resisted the urge to grab her and kiss her. Something, however, hit him as she stepped close to him. An awareness swept over him, that he was, like she had said, beneath not just Malfoy and her grandfather, but her as well. He would always be the poor son of a poor mother and a cruel father. It didn’t matter that he would have his PhD. It didn’t matter how much money he had. He would always be reaching for some unattainable, and, right now, it was her. Yes, she liked him right now. She liked him until they left the confines of the campground -- until she saw his small apartment, met his weird roommate, understood how many hours he spent pouring over his dissertation, realized he had no family, when he inevitably fell far more in love with her than she him. Snape was used to suffering. He would rather suffer without her than to suffer later, after having her in his life. 

\--

Snape wasn’t at dinner, and he wasn’t at the campfire that evening. Tonks heard another counselor say that he was feeling ill.

She sat on their log, near where’d they argued just hours before, and she tucked herself into  _ Carrie.  _

\--

Tonks barely saw Snape over the course of the next few days. He was in meals only momentarily, and he kept up the notion that he felt ill in the evenings -- migraines supposedly. She was willing to admit to herself that she missed him, missed talking to him. In his absence, she felt a deep loneliness. 

With five days left at camp, Tonks knew she wouldn’t ever miss this hellhole in the woods, but she would miss the lake and the nights she so often spent alone on the dock. She told herself that she would probably never speak with Snape again, and so began to convince herself of this fact. Sneaking out, as she so often did in the past, but for the first time since they’d kissed, with no intention of swimming, Tonks snuck down to the lake in her pajamas. 

Tonks spread her arms out, her legs bent at the knee, her hair splayed against the wood of the dock. 

She had brought her iPod with her. Phones weren’t allowed, but as she had kept her older iPod, which didn’t have access to the internet and couldn’t text or call, she was allowed to bring it with her. Pushing her earbuds into her ears, she scrolled through until she found the band she wanted and then the album she wanted and then the song she wanted-- The Gaslight Anthem  _ Señior and the Queen  _ “Say I Won’t (Recognize)”. 

As he approached the dock, she didn’t hear him. She heard the same song on repeat, the same lyrics sticking out to her: 

_ Before we turn to _ [ _ghosts_](https://www.definitions.net/definition/ghosts) _ on the mist on the sand _

_ Or fall in line for more _ [ _conducive_](https://www.definitions.net/definition/conducive) _ plans _

_ I _ [ _never_](https://www.definitions.net/definition/never) _ took a shot to the _ [ _higher_](https://www.definitions.net/definition/higher) _ minds _

_ But I can hold the soft _ [ _waltz_](https://www.definitions.net/definition/waltz) _ down _

_ Meet me tonight _

_ Let's see what can happen _

_ We're _ [ _having_](https://www.definitions.net/definition/having) _ a party, everybody's swingin' _

_ Tonight won't you come down out of your tower? _

_ Don't make me _ [ _dance_](https://www.definitions.net/definition/dance) _ all _ [ _night_](https://www.definitions.net/definition/night) _ alone _

He slowed as he approached. He heard her humming, saw her fingers tapping in rhythm to whatever it was she was listening to. He almost turned away, to leave her be, to forget everything that had happened. As he stepped back to turn, she sat up and looked at him over her shoulder. Her eyebrows raised, she lied back down to where she was without saying anything to him.

He took her quietness as not an invitation but not a dismissal. He didn’t know what to do, so he sat down next to her, stretched out his long legs, crossed his arms over his chest, and looked up at the stars -- hearing, only slightly, what she was listening to through her earbuds.

After some time, out of the corner of his eye he saw her hit a button on her iPod and pluck out her earbuds.

"What do you want?" Her tone was light, not sardonic or cruel. 

He turned his head to look at her, "I've been coming here nightly in hopes…"

She cut him off, "No. Out of life. What do you want?"

"Ahhh…" turning his head back, looking up at the night's sky. 

He strummed his fingers, weaved together, on his chest. "Well," he began and paused again. "Honestly?"

Tonks assumed this to be rhetorical, and she kept quiet waiting for his response.

"Honestly. Not much. I want harmony and comfort. However that may come. I want to love someone and have them return the affection sincerely."

"Do you think you'll achieve that?"

"Probably not."

"Why not?"

"Things like that don't work out for people like me. I've spent my whole life underneath people, and, even now, with all I've worked for, I'm still just underneath someone. I'll never be able to obtain the success others have. I've spent so much time working towards this degree and this eventual career and forming relationships with all the right people, and yet I don't have anyone that wants me around just for me. That's, well, that's my ultimate failure. That's been my whole life. No one wanting me around for just me."

"I want you around for you." 

"You're a very foolish girl."

"Oh, lay off it. I've spent my life around the likes of my grandfather and of Lucius Malfoy. You beat them ten fold, in every way imaginable."

He just started at her. Unsure of her words. Unsure of himself. 

She sat up, crossing her legs, and maneuvering her body to face him. "Look, Severus, you don't...God, you just… you don't have to be under Malfoy. You don't have to be the top chemist at whatever pharmaceutical company is in the pocket of Malfoy. You don't have to. Do you really want that? Do you really want to work for Malfoy? Do as he says? Research what he wants? Be at his beck and call?"

Still lying on his back, he took a deep breath, "...No. No, I don't even remotely want to do that."

"Then what do  _ you _ want to do?"

He propped himself up on his elbows, "This is going to sound ludicrous, but I've always wanted to just teach. Teach high school chemistry."

"Really?" she asked incredulously

He laughed, "Yes. In my undergrad, I took a few education classes. It was short lived, as I quickly felt as if I wasn't going to fit in with the colorful fonts and the hokiness of it all. But, yes, teaching." 

"Then why don't you just do that?"

"It's not that easy, Tonks."

"I think it's easier than you're allowing yourself to believe." 

She leaned back again, her back against the dock, her legs stretched out beside him but opposite of his, so her toes were next to his ear. 

He glanced at her feet -- glittery black nail polish adorned her toes, his eyes followed up her calves and to her thighs. He stopped himself and looked back up towards the sky when his eyes reached the crevice between her pajama short resting against the dock and the curve of her bottom. 

To distract himself from her legs and what lie beneath her shorts, he sat up with his knees pulled up, arms wrapped around them, fingers still weaved together.

"And you? What are your plans? An art school I presume?"

"Yes. Not far from here."

"What are your intentions with a degree in fine arts?" He was trying to sound condescending and humorous.

She laughed, knowing all too well the tone. "I don't plan on studying fine arts. I'd like to study art therapy, specifically remediational art therapy with young children who have experienced abuse or neglect.

His eyes widened, "Not the silly artsy-fartsy weirdo with purple hair, are you?"

"Oh! No. I'm most definitely still that."

"You are…you are something." 

"I suppose," she shrugged. "But, I'll probably just end up an art teacher," she said winking at him. He bellowed with laughter. 

She sat up, her leg barely touching his. His hands close enough to reach out and grab.

"I like you, Tonks,” he knew, deep down, he felt much more for her than that, but he wasn’t foolish enough to let that be known. 

"I assumed you did."

He chuckled again, "That's good, then." 

"I'm not sure what you're doing about that fact though."

"Me either."

"What would you like to do about it? About liking me?"

"I'd like to kiss you again."

"Then you should," she tilted her head a little to the side as she said this, her smile tucked into right cheek, a few freckles hiding within her smile.

He couldn't help but smile when looking at her, her purple hair -- fading to a deep lavender from the sun and the water, with it's loose curls framing her face. She radiated so much of what Snape had always longer for. She already was such a comfort to him. 

Without further hesitation, he leaned forward, slipping an arm around her waist, cupping her face with his other hand. He ran his thumb along her bottom lip before caressing her cheek with it. 

He moved his face closer to hers, but he didn't kiss her. He simply looked at her. His gaze felt languid, as if he knew he had time, as if he knew that this was far from the last time he'd kiss her. 

Tonks closed the small gap between him. Even though her heart was pounding and her stomach was in knots, she couldn't wait any longer to feel his lips against her. Her kiss was a tender shove against his own lips. Tonks' way of saying, "Get on with it." A smile played at his lips as he returned her kiss. 

Getting up on her knees, Tonks pressed her fingers against his chest and gave him a light shove. Following her directive, he leaned back against the dock, and his hands gravitated towards her bare thighs, as she straddled him.

He was a little taken aback by her physical forwardness, but he also was thoroughly enjoying himself -- the way she felt against his body, her eagerness to be close to him. He felt youthful in a way that would have usually made him feel childish and stupid, but she awoke something long forgotten in himself. She made him want to sing her all the sappy pop-punk songs he loved in highschool, and he wasn't at all ashamed of the feeling. 

Hoping she would want to continue to see him after camp ended, he began making the playlist in his head.

Every night, until the last night of camp, they met on the dock after hours. They spent their days catching each other's gaze. Tonks blushing tremendously thinking of his lips against hers, his lips against her neck, his lips against her breasts while his fingers toyed with the hem of her pajama shorts until she finally begged him to touch her. Snape was overly worried about the idea of pushing her into a physical boundary she wasn't ready for. As outgoing and physically intense as Tonks could be she was still younger than him, and Snape was far more concerned with her comfort than the strain of his aching erection each night. He'd survive. Tonks desperately had wanted more, but seeing as that she'd only ever had sex with one boy just a few times, and despite the front she put forward, she was deeply insecure about her sexual experiences. Had Snape known of her insecurities, he'd have laughed not at her, bit at the ridiculousness of  _ her  _ being insecure about anything -- he couldn't fathom a woman such as herself being in anyway insecure; he was in awe of everything she did. He knew that once camp ended, she'd wake up from this stupor, and barely think of him again. 

The last night of camp was no different than the past four nights, they met, past curfew on the dock. The only difference was the foreboding sense of ending that seemed to loom over them. Tonks usually initiated their physical interactions first, but tonight, Snape kissed her first. He was wracked with nerves. To her, he could be just another person to date, to have fun, to enjoy; she was too young to settle for one person, but for him, with his history and his age, he wasn't just looking for someone to have a good time with. Snape was far more emotionally invested than he wanted to admit. He was fearful of what the night may bring. 

  
  


He kissed her and she pulled away quickly. His heart sinking into his stomach. His brain cursing his heart for feeling the way he did. 

  
  


She pulled away and he was relieved to see a smirk play across her lips. 

  
  


"Let's go back to your cabin."

  
  


"Someone might see us."

  
  


"We need to talk."

  
  


"We can talk here."

  
  


"No, Severus. We need more privacy."

  
  


His heart thudded and he nodded, "Okay. I'll go first. You follow a few minutes later. Don't knock. Just walk in."

  
  


He turned and left her standing on the doc in her pajamas. Her fingers nervously playing with the edge of her shirt. 

  
  


Snape sat on his bed in his cabin and waited. He was partly convinced she'd not show when the door opened slowly and quietly. 

  
  


When the door shut the moonlight poured in and shone against Tonks standing in his doorway. 

  
  


She stepped toward him on his bed, stood a foot or two in front of him. She played at the hem of her tank top before lifting it off of her body revealing a light blue lace bralette. Without further hesitation she slid her pajama shorts down her hips and let them fall to her feet, deep purple cotton panties revealed. She unclasped her bra for him, let her breasts lose, pert with attention and need in his gaze. Lastly, she slid off her underwear. Snape took in her body from her collar bones, to her erect nipples, to the soft curve of her belly that led to the small patch of light brown curls between her thighs. He longed to know how slick she was there. 

  
  


"I want you. I want you desperately," she said as she stepped toward him, standing in between his legs, his hands finding her hips.

  
  


"Are you certain?" he asked. 

  
  


She nodded, "I need you inside of me."

  
  


"You realize camp ends tomorrow. That we'll part ways." He was saying this more to himself than to her.

  
  


"No we won't" her voice barely a whisper.

  
  


With those words he leaned up to kiss her. "Lie down then." He stood up to let her onto the bed. 

  
  


She lied down on her side while she watched him undress. Crawling naked into his bed with her, he slipped his arm around her waist, pulled her to him. He caught her mouth in his and sucked on her bottom lip, rubbing his tongue against her. She ground her hips toward him desperate for his touch. Pinning her hip down with one hand, he plunged two fingers into her pussy, wet and glistening with anticipation. He pulled on the sensitive spot inside her, listening to her mewing, her breath hot and yearning against his ear. He ground his palm against her clit as his fingers worked inside her. He could tell by her breath she was close to coming. He fucked her with his fingers until he felt her thighs clench and shake around his hand. He took one of her nipples softly into his mouth as he positioned himself between her legs.

  
  


Once more he asked, "You want me, Tonks?"

  
  


She nodded furiously, "God. Yes. I want you to fill me up."

  
  


Snape grabbed a condom, one he stole from a supply kit, that he had underneath the bed in his bag. Once on, he slowly sunk himself into her. She hooked a leg around his back and looped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her. She kissed down his jawline and moved to his lips, when, once there, he captured her mouth in his own frantically. She pressed her hips upwards towards him, urging him. He propped himself up on his elbows, pressing his skin against her, feeling the warmth of her breath against the cheek of his face, her heartbeat pounding beneath her breasts. He bucked his hips into her, listening to her gasp along with a moan that caught in her throat. Tonks ran her fingers down his shoulders as he continued. There was a warm tingling in the base of her belly, and she began to rock her hips with his. He slowed his thrusts down, pressed his forehead to hers, “Tonks…” he whispered. 

“What?” she whispered back, feeling him move slowly inside her. “I just...I really like you.” She let out a low soft laugh, “I really like you, too, Severus.” Leaning in to kiss her again, she pushed her hips up into him and he met her hips with intensity until he found he couldn’t hold out any longer, burying his face into her neck as he came. He slipped out of her, still between her legs, leaning on one elbow and ran his hands down to her warm, still-aching pussy. He kissed her neck, down her collar bone, and took a nipple into his mouth biting her gently. Tonks sighed with relief as he pressed his index and middle finger into her, throbbing them against her bundle of nerves. It wasn’t long before Tonks felt the pressure building, so when he moved his mouth to kiss her neck, one hand on her breasts tweaking her nipple, his other hand pulsing inside her, she came -- biting into her lip, thighs quivering around his hand. 

He moved off of her, laying beside her. He didn’t feel as calm as he’d hoped; he felt even more nervous.  _ What would tomorrow bring? _

She felt oddly calm. Leaning over to kiss his cheek, she said, “I promise this isn’t how it seems, but I need to get back to my cabin and get some sleep before tomorrow. I can’t even imagine how miserable it’ll have to be to see my grandfather tomorrow without sleep.” The look on his face told her was worried. She kissed him on the lips softly, “I’ll see you tomorrow. I enjoyed tonight. Thank you.”

With that she slipped out of his bed, into her close, and into the night.

\---

On the morning of the last day of camp, after their evening spent mostly together, Tonks felt the overwhelming weight of only a few hours of sleep upon her. Her body ached in a vaguely familiar but new way. She waited until all the other girls left the cabin before she pulled herself out of her bunk. Breakfast was already well underway at this point, and after breakfast everyone would be leaving. There was noone coming back to the cabin, and Tonks was very grateful for the moment to be alone. 

Packing up the last of her things, there was a soft rap at the door. She was fairly certain she knew who it was, and her heart began to race. 

At this point in time, it didn’t really matter if people knew about their friendship turned romance or not. Camp was over. 

Opening the door, she found Snape standing with his hands in the pockets of his black jeans. His hair tucked behind his ears. He smiled softly when she opened the door. He was amazed at how she looked -- her hair was completely unkempt, her eyes were puffy -- she even had glasses on, he hadn’t realized she wore glasses. She wore an oversized, very old, baseball shirt. He didn’t know what she had on beneath the shirt as it covered anything that she may have been wearing, and he felt a jolt of blood rushing to his groin at the mere thought of what she was hiding beneath her shirt. 

He hadn’t come here with the intention of anything but telling giving her number and hugging her goodbye, but now he was certain he was here for much more than that. 

“May I come in?” his voice seemed deeper in the early morning hours -- rusty and warm.

She nodded, stepping aside to let him come in. 

She shut the door behind her. Leaning against the door, feet out in front of her, her t-shirt drew up. She tucked her arms behind her, resting her hands at the door. Her chest rose and fell with anticipation and nervousness. Snape noted the shape and weight of her breasts beneath her t-shirt, the absence of bra revealing her hardened nipples, and he felt the strain of his erection against his jeans. 

He stepped toward her, placing a hand on the door above her shoulder. He was much taller than her. Standing like this, she felt enveloped by him; she could smell the familiar soap from the showers upon his skin, feel his breath against her, note the hardness of his cock through his jeans pressed against her. 

Bending down, he kissed her neck, his lips parting, moving his mouth up to her ear and sucking softly on her ear lobe. He ran the other hand ran up the length of her thighs, over her hip bone, and rested on her waist before he dropped down to his knees. He moved both hands to the hem of her underwear, looking up at her, he raised his eyebrows questioningly, ensuring it was okay to remove them. She looked down at him, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip she smiled and whispered, “Please.” 

Obligingly, he slipped his fingers beneath the band of her underwear and slid them down to her ankles. She pushed them aside with one foot, and he chose this moment, the one where she parted her legs slightly, to slide his hands between her thighs, parting them. He rested his hands on the tops of her thighs, his fingers splayed out against her skin. He ran his thumb along the slit of warm and needy pussy, feeling the wetness beneath his skin. 

Looking up at her again, she seemed more tense than she had last night. Rubbing his thumb slowly against her, he asked, “Why do you seem so nervous?”

“It’s just…” she paused, trying to focus on what she wanted to say was difficult with his thumb making her increasingly wetter, “Just that no one’s ever…”

“Of course not. No boy you’ve ever been with could possibly,” he paused, leaning forward to kiss below her belly button, “understand how delightful it will be to taste you,” pulling the hand he was using to caress her away from her skin, he licked his thumb, “how stunning it will be to watch you unravel as I take you into my mouth, to have your thighs quiver against me,” 

He moved his hand back to her warm pussy and slide two of his fingers into her slowly. He kept his eyes upon her and she wanted to look down at him, to watch him, but her eyes fluttered closed as he slowly pumped his fingers inside of her. She tilted her head against the door, and gasped loudly as she felt his tongue flat against her clit, moving back and forth over her. She felt pressure building up deep in her belly when he removed his fingers from her, she wanted to protest but was quickly deterred as his he used his hand to lift her leg up. Her foot resting on his shoulder, she felt his tongue lap at the wetness of her pussy. He groaned in his own pleasure of her musk and warmth. With his other hand, her used his thumb to massage her clit. Snape could feel the muscles in her thighs quivering, and he continued to rub her clit in circles as he worked his tongue inside her pussy. 

  
Tonks ran a hand down to grip at his shoulders. Knowing other campers could be walking by, Tonks bit down onto her free hand and let out a muffled moan against her skin as she came. 

He kissed her clit light, moving his mouth to the insides of her thighs and kissing them as well. She dropped down to her own knees to meet him and kissed him. He smelled and tasted of a sweet musk as she invaded his mouth with her tongue. He pulled back from her, kissing her lightly before kissing her forehead.

“We need to get going. I’ll be needed out front.”

She nodded.

“I came by to make sure you had my number and my address, if you want to keep in touch. I can understand if you don’t. You’ll be starting school and meeting all sorts of new people and…”

“Shut up. Ok?”

He smiled half-heartedly and nodded, “Okay. Lemme sneak out. I hope to talk to you later.”

“Sure. Of course.” 

\--

Later that evening, lying in her bed at home, her phone in her hands, Tonks typed and untyped message after message to Severus. When they’d parted ways that morning she felt secure in what they had -- she was certain they’d see each other again.

Instead of texting, she typed his address in the GPS on her phone; he didn’t live far away. He lived about thirty minutes from where she was. She typed in his address from the university she’d be attending; he lived a little over an hour away from where she’d be. That wasn’t bad either. That thought caused her to feel even more insecure. She wasn’t confident he’d be willing to drive to see her. 

Thirty minutes away, sprawled out on his couch, flipping through Netflix looking for something to watch; something to distract him. Severus laid with his phone on his chest -- ringer on high. He didn’t get her number which, he realized now was stupid, but he thought, well, he thought that if she truly liked him then she’d be in touch. He didn’t want to overstep any boundaries with her. He had made his feelings for her known, and if she wanted to move forward then she knew how to get in touch with him. 

He was in the midst of convincing himself that just because he hadn’t heard from her yet didn’t mean anything; they’d only parted ways this morning -- surely she had friends and family to see, surely she had things to do, surely she would be in touch tomorrow or the next day, when his phone chimed.

He picked it up quickly and felt a wave of relief wash over him when he saw the text was from a number not saved on his phone. 

Opening the text it read: 

_ Hi. It’s me. Tonks. I realized you didn’t have my number, so here it is.  _

** _Hello. I’m glad you texted. _ **

_ Did you think I wouldn’t?  _

** _It crossed my mind. How are you? How is home? _ **

_ Fine. Kind of lonely. I’m used to being on the dock at this hour with someone.  _

** _When can I see you again? _ **

_ As soon as possible. _

** _What are you doing tomorrow ?_ **

_ Nothing. Yet.  _

_ \-- _

**Epilogue**

Snape sat at his desk in their spare bedroom turned office. It was a Friday night, and he typically had a rule of no grading on Friday nights, but Tonks wasn’t home yet, and so he figured he would rather just go ahead and get it done. He was finishing up the last of his second blocks chemistry test, when he heard the front door open. 

Tonks bounded in, as she always did. Excited. Bright. Magical. They’d been together for four years now, and her presence never ceased to amaze him. This new thing though -- this living together, it was exactly what Snape had always wanted. Comfort. Happiness. 

They spent four years in a long distance relationship while Tonks got her undergraduate degree. It didn’t take long for Snape to find a job as a high school chemistry teacher, and spent his first two years teaching while getting certified. The summer before Tonks began graduate school, they moved in together in the town where she would attend graduate school; Snape accepted a job at a high school close by. Life was really,  _ really _ good. He was certain that there was no better way to be spending his life. 

“Hey, there, teacher,” she said, walking into the room. Her hair was pink, and, as it turns out, this was more her staple color thank purple. Occasionally, he missed the purple, but she could dye her hair any color and he’d love it. 

“Hi.”

“I thought there was no grading on Fridays.”

“Well, you weren’t home, and, when you’re not around, what am I supposed to do with myself?” 

“Fair enough...hey, I rented a movie.”

“Oh, yeah? What movie?”

“The new adaptation of IT,” she smiled widely, almost annoyingly at him. 

“We’ve seen it. Three times. In theaters. You insisted,” he played annoyed, but he wasn’t. He didn’t care how many times they watched the same movie over and over. 

“I know. But I mean, it’s just so great. You know?”

“As far as King adaptations go, it is, in fact, superior to all the others.”

“And I’m making pizza. And I bought beer,” she was bouncing on her heels as she spoke.

“You are really pulling out all the stops, woman.”

  
“It’s Friday, you know? I want to really enjoy it with you,” she leaned forward and ruffled his hair teasingly before bounding out of the room, presumably to make dinner. 

Their home was cozy. It was filled with books and records and unusual works of art. They ate their meals at a small table in the kitchen. They drank their coffee their in the mornings. They would stay-up late and chat about her schooling, his students, a new band she’d discovered, an old band he couldn’t let go of. 

They spent a lot of their hours of their weekends in bed: ravishing books, movies, and each other.

Snape was settled in bed, having set up IT, when Tonks came into the room. She had on her glasses, and she was wearing a over-larged way too holey Black Flag t-shirt of his. He smiled when he saw her, “Are you ever going to throw that thing out? It has holes the size of a grapefruit in the armpit?” She shook her head, “No way. It’s much easier to show you my boobs this way,” she lifted her arm up, and he laughed as she pointed to the gigantic hole where he could, sure enough, see her right breast. “If you want me to see your boobs that badly, sleep naked.” She rolled her eyes and crawled into bed with him.

An hour into the film, Snape glanced over at Tonks. He could see the film bouncing of her glasses, and he watched as her face lit up as she laughed at something funny Richie Tozier. Seeing her in their bed, laughing, he felt overwhelmed and completely prepared for he was about to do. He got up. 

“Where you going?” she asked

“Kitchen. Want anything?” She tilted her head from side-to-side as she thought, “Oh, yes! Those cheddar pretzels. Pleeeeeeease” 

Coming back into the room, he tossed the pretzels into her lap. “Thanks,” and as she began to fiddle with the bag, he knelt down beside her. She paused, noting what he was doing.

“What are you…,” but he cut her off. “This is the least romantic way I could choose to do this, you are about to shove pretzels into your mouth while watching a movie about a shapeshifting clown that eats children, but, quite frankly, it is the only way to do it considering we first spoke due to a horror novel. Nymphadora Tonks, I love you, and nothing would make me happier than to spend all my nights with you like this. Will you do me the honors and marry me?”

As he spoke, a smile spread across her face, “M-O-O-N, that spells….” she paused with a smile, “yes. I’ll marry you.” 


End file.
